As a Mother and a Father
by L. Mouse
Summary: Lex Luthor has kidnapped Jason and Lois and Clark must work to get him back. Unfortunately, Clark's been badly injured by Luthor and they will need to do so without most of his powers. Along the way, they must also come to terms with each other.
1. Chapter 1

-1As a Father and a Mother

by

L Mouse

--------------

Author's Notes: And this would be more fic from the depths of my hard drive, since I've been slow lately and folks have been bugging me. Bugging me actually makes me happy and frustrated at the same time -- I like that people care about what I write these days ... however, I do have real life obligations. Sorry guys ... if I ever win the lottery, I promise I'll quit my day job and write fanfic full time.

I started this back in July, after watching Superman Returns. After reading it over, I think this one's worth completing, so I'm adding it to my queue of stories to finish. It's about the lengths to which parents will go for their children; somehow, I don't think Clark Kent would be any different in this regard.

(For those of you who have been asking, I should have some more Kenshin up in the next day or two, as well. The delay is due mostly to a very emotionally tough chapter. It's got a lot of layers and I have to get 'em all right. Sorry for the delay.)

And what the heck, a shameless plug -- I've got a new fannish blog at firefox dot org. (Standard disclaimer: unaffiliated with Mozilla since 1997!) C'mon over and say hello!

--------------

_Clark Kent, reporting from downtown Metropolis, where Lois Lane has just purchased lunch in the park for herself and her son,_ Superman thought, with wry amusement. He stood on a rooftop and peered over it as Lois collected a hot dog, chips, and a soda from a street vendor. _It's a bird, it's a plane, it's Superstalker!_

_And a very hungry Superstalker ..._ A hot dog sounded pretty darn good. His stomach growled. He promised himself, _Later. As myself. I'll change first. I'm not in the mood for signing autographs today._

He hadn't actually been looking for Lois while patrolling the city but he'd impulsively decided to follow her when he saw her below. He tried to justify it to himself with the fact that Lex Luthor still hadn't turned up (although his helicopter had been found on a deserted island) and that the city was a dangerous place even without the criminal mastermind's presence, but honesty compelled him to add to himself, _Bull, you're just infatuated and engaging in rude stalking behavior that you should be embarrassed by._

He'd just about decided to lose the costume and find lunch when he noticed that Lois had sat down on a bench and Jason was busy feeding his hot dog bun to ducks. "Superstalker" decided that watching Lois and Jason was more appealing than eating, at least for the moment. The park was nearly deserted.

_That's my kid,_ he thought, defying his sense of guilt at watching them unseen, _I've got a right to watch over him. And his mother._

One of the ducks was lame; Jason ran after it, caught it, and wrapped his arms around it in a hug. Oddly, the duck didn't struggle. He watched as Lois told him to _put the duck down_; Jason protested, but did. The duck waddled off. He noticed it wasn't lame after all -- he'd been mistaken.

Lois looked up, scanning the skies. For him? Maybe. Probably. He didn't think she could see him at this distance; it was an overcast and somewhat hazy day and he'd look just like any other person standing on the roof. He wasn't flying.

Jason followed his mother's gaze, then looked down, pointed exactly at Clark, and said, "He's there, Mommy!"

"Where?" Lois' voice, tinny at this distance, asked.

"On the roof of that building! He's watching us!" Jason started jumping up and down and waving his arms in excited greeting. "He sees me! Superman! Superman!"

Huh. _Looks like there's no doubt that he's got my gifts._

"I don't see him," Lois said, dubiously. "Are you sure?"

Superman, cover blown by a four year old, shrugged mentally and swooped down to the park. Ducks and pigeons scattered as he landed. Jason ran forward silently, threw his arms around Superman's legs, and gave him a silent and rather strong hug.

He tousled the kid's hair affectionately. "Hello, Jason."

"Hi Superman! Mommy didn't see you but I did!" Jason stepped back, and offered Superman a piece of ketchup-smeared hot dog bun. "Want to feed a duck?"

"Honey, I think Superman might be a bit too busy to feed ducks," Lois said. There was apology in her voice.

Superman smiled, at Jason. "I always have time to feed ducks."

Gravely, he accepted the bit of bread, tore it in half, and handed part back to Jason. The ducks, formerly startled by his arrival, were already back and begging for food. He tossed his bread and smiled at the quacking mob scene.

"They're hungry!" Jason said, excited. He threw his piece of bread into the flock as well. "Mommy, can we get more bread? Please?"

"Maybe later," Lois promised her son. "Go play on the swings, Jason."

With several backward glances and a disappointed, "Aw, mom!" Jason obeyed. He was a good kid, Superman noted, but a normal one. Most children would have protested much more about being sent away from Superman and told to swing instead.

"So what brings you here?" She asked, bluntly. Suspiciously. Like she couldn't imagine that he'd ever be _social_ with her.

"I was patrolling and I saw you and Jason," Superman said, truthfully. "It's a slow day -- I think everyone's watching the Big Game, even the bad guys -- and I had the time for a visit."

Lois rolled her eyes. "The Game. Yes. Richard and his buddies are having a party. I couldn't take the testosterone anymore so I said I'd take the munchkin to the park for awhile." She studied him for a moment. "I suppose you don't know much about earth sports."

He grinned at her. "I don't know about that, however, duty called." In truth, he'd rather have been watching the game himself, but it would have been by himself, since somehow Clark had found himself without an invitation to anyone else's Big Game Party -- he'd only been back in town a few days, after all. Watching sports on TV by oneself just wasn't the same as watching it with a bunch of other guys.

Lois glanced past him and shouted at Jason, "Not so high, honey!"

Jason was swinging so high that he was nearly horizontal with the ground. Superman observed, watching him. "That looks like fun."

"He's going to fall off and break his neck," Lois grumbled. "Jason! Slow down!"

"Awwww, Mom!" But he obeyed, unhappily.

"I doubt he'd be hurt by falling off," Superman observed, quietly. There wasn't really any reason to keep the pretense up between them anymore that the boy wasn't his -- they both knew the truth. "If he's like me, will be awhile before he can control his powers consciously, but he can access them if he needs them now. He would probably fly; if he didn't fly, he'd not be hurt by the fall."

"Yes, and I'd die of a heart attack before he hit the ground. I'm his Mother, Superman. Let me worry even if it's irrational!" Lois sounded annoyed at him. She glared, hands on her hips.

He held his hands up defensively, "I apologize, Lois."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Yes, you do have a lot to apologize for."

_I don't need to be psychic to know what she's referring to._ He nodded gravely, hoping she'd drop it. He knew Lois' temper and didn't really want to deal with an angry Lois Lane in public. "I am aware that I could have handled things a little better."

"That's the understatement of the day. I'm still a bit fuzzy about how exactly the munchkin happened. Was I drunk?" Lois said, sounding irritated.

_Oh, boy, dangerous territory here. _He _really_ didn't want to discuss this at all, and particularly not in public. Nobody had yet run up to him asking for an autograph or a picture but that was inevitable. They _were_ being watched by a small and curious crowd from a distance. He hoped Lois' comments hadn't carried to anyone. And even if there was nobody listening the subject still wasn't one he wanted to talk about just now.

"Lois, we'll discuss it later."

"We've got a lot to discuss," she muttered. She didn't sound angry, just very annoyed. He knew quite well how quickly that annoyance could turn to hot rage, but he judged he was safe from the Wrath of Lois for a moment. "Tonight?"

He nodded. She was going to hold him to it, drat it all. _Well, it's not like I actually expected Lois Lane to drop the subject of her own son's conception. _"I'll meet you outside tonight."

--------------------

_This is going to be such a fun conversation._ Superman spotted Lois sitting on the dock beside the float plane. Her feet were hanging over the edge and dangled towards the water several feet below. The tide was out. He could hear shouting inside the house -- cheering, really. Richard and his friends were watching another game, though the "big one" that Lois had referred to earlier had doubtless ended hours ago.

From inside, his super-hearing picked up the comment, _"I'll get more cheese. Anyone want another glass of wine?" _

Male bonding rituals, Richard-style, apparently. That had been Richard's voice, and he sounded more than a little drunk. Superman genuinely liked the guy, but wondered a bit about what Lois saw in him.

_Maybe it's just that he's a decent guy who could be a good daddy to her son._

"Superman," Lois said, when he landed on the dock behind her and it swayed under his weight. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

"You asked," he said, softly. He had a hard time denying her anything -- and this, well, he figured he _owed _her this.

Water lapped at the underside of the dock, making odd gurgling and thumping noises. The plane rocked gently against its moorings. A firefly buzzed through the air between them. Lois was silent, not looking at him: she stared out over the water, watching city lights in the distance.

"Why can't I remember?" she asked, finally.

He sat down next to her, a safe distance away, deciding to shed his mystery and dignity for once. Lois deserved better than the mysterious Superman -- she deserved to see the _man_ he was, who was profoundly sorry for all the harm he'd caused her. "I'm not perfect, Lois. I made a mistake."

"Sex with me was a mistake? So you made me forget it?" Her voice rose perilously towards a screech. "I didn't even know you could do that!"

"That wasn't why ..." He swallowed. _Careful, Superman, or you'll lose her forever. _He didn't want that. Even if they could never be lovers again, he didn't want to lose her as a _friend_. "Lois, you found out some things about me and we tried to deal with it but knowing the truth about me was hurting you so badly. I thought it best that you went on with your life, without me. I never would have done what I did if I knew you were pregnant. I certainly never would have left."

"So you stole my memories of us having sex?" She said, confused. And still angry. "What, were you really bad in bed or something?"

"No! Well -- no! At least, you didn't complain." _That had been a fumbling mess, though. At least the first time. Lois thought it was funny that I was a virgin. _He knew he was blushing and was grateful for the dark. He paused, then added, "It wasn't about that, Lois, it was about ..."

Pain shot through him as an unseen force punched him in the shoulder. He was thrown backwards across the dock, head over heels, sent sprawling. Lois screamed, and a couple seconds later, he heard the report of a gun.

_Somebody's shooting at us! _He realized, dimly. He hurt. He tried to get up, to protect Lois, but he couldn't make his limbs work right. He hurt, he hurt like _Kryptonite,_ with a horrible burning pain. He could feel blood pouring down his arm, and Lois was screaming his name in a panic. He couldn't move ... couldn't even speak.

Something thunked into the dock next to him, and again, a few seconds later, he heard the report of a rifle.

"Fuck!" Lois exclaimed. He felt her trying to drag him by his arm. He tried to help her by standing up, couldn't. Lois screamed at the house, "Richard! Call the cops! They're shooting at us!"

A bullet hit his calf. The pain was unbearable and he screamed. Lois swore again, and managed to yank him off the dock and into the water. He hit with a cold splash. The water revived him a bit; he struggled to swim. Lois' arm was around him. "Son of a bitch! Superman, you've got to help me! They're shooting at us!"

"Can't ..." he gasped. His vision was getting dark. It was hard to breath. "Kryptonite bullets."

"Lex?" Lois said. "I'm going to kill that man myself!"

"Lois, I love you ..." Water splashed across his face, and he inhaled some and coughed. Coughing hurt, and left a nasty metallic taste in his mouth. "I've always loved you. Always will. I'm sorry ..."

"Don't you die on me!" she hissed. She was swimming, though he couldn't see where. A hard object bumped against his head. "Climb!"

He couldn't. She swore furiously. She let go of him; he went under for a second, then she was tugging him up with his cape. Somehow, she managed to pull him half out of the water. He got a foot under himself, hooked on a hard object bobbing in the water, and he pushed and she pulled and he slithered through the open door of the float plane and collapsed on the deck. She pulled his legs in the rest of the way, and then slid the door shut.

A window shattered with explosive force. Lois screamed.

"Lois, can you fly this thing?" Superman gasped.

"Richard's been teaching me -- Jason! I've got to get Jason!" She started to open the door again, and a bullet hit it with a _thud_. She yanked it shut again, ducked. "Superman, they're shooting at us! They're trying to kill you!"

He was too far gone to respond. Dimly, he heard the float plane's engine start, and felt it start to leave the dock. It stopped, hard.

"We're still tied up!" Lois screamed. "Son of a bitch! Where does he keep that knife?"

He should do something, he really should. But darkness washed over him, and he was falling a long distance, and then he knew nothing more.


	2. Chapter 2

Survival

Chapter 2

By L Mouse

-------------------------------

The silent plane hit the water and skipped like a stone, powerless. Lois bit her tongue, and the seatbelt definitely left bruises on her hips.

_Sorry, Superman!_ Lois thought, frantically, as Superman was thrown airborne. She heard a thump behind her as he collided with something. She gritted her teeth, and guided the plane down again. She could barely see the water; just moonlit sparkles against the darkness. She was landing blind, groping for contact with the seawater.

BOOM! She found the ocean.

They bounced again, this time with a little less force. The plane groaned and creaked, protesting the impact.

The fourth time down, the plane finally decided to stay in contact with the water and it glided to a stop, momentum dying slowly. When it finally sat motionless on the still, quiet, slowly rolling ocean, all was silent except for the ticking of cooling engine parts and the metallic lap of waves against the steel pontoons.

"We're out of gas," Lois said, into the silent cabin. "We'll have to call for help."

They hadn't filled the plane's gas tank since last week. She hadn't gone far, though the city lights were over the horizon. She'd been expecting Superman to wake up and he hadn't.

Superman didn't respond. Was he even still alive? He'd said he thought the bullets contained kryptonite and she was reasonably sure that was _bad_. He'd been hit at least twice.

She unbuckled the seatbelt, snapped on the cabin lights, and stumbled back to check on him. The ocean waves made the little plane roll steadily. His head lolled back and forth as the plane's deck pitched and heaved. He was sprawled on the floor, suit stained dark with blood.

Lois knelt, "Superman. Superman, can you hear me?"

Nothing. He was out cold. He _was_ still alive, which was a profound relief. He was breathing shallowly, and blood pumped steadily from the wound. She needed to stop that bleeding.

There wasn't anything cloth in the boat. His cape and suit were not absorbent. With a growl of frustration, she yanked her shirt over her head and pressed it against the wound. Under her fingers, she felt the grind and crunch of -- bone?

She lifted her shirt up and peeked. No, _kryptonite. _Embedded in that ugly dark wound she could see shards of green crystal. With a sense of deja vu, she retrieved a pair of needle-nose pliers from the tool kit under the plane's back seat and -- fighting down nausea -- she pulled as many bits and pieces of kryptonite from the wound as she could. Nasty stuff; it had splintered on impact and some of the pieces were no bigger than grains of sand.

Fortunately, the bullet had hit his collarbone and hadn't gone very deep. His collarbone was _broken_, she didn't have to be a doctor to see that, but it had absorbed most of the impact. She flushed out the wound with clean water, getting everything she could find out, and put pressure on it again. The bleeding had slowed as she worked, and she could almost _see_ him healing.

The bullet in his calf had gone clean through and the wound also appeared to be closing up. He wasn't waking up, but considering what she'd had to do, maybe this was a good thing. She would have lost it if he had screamed. And later, she was going to have a serious case of the shakes about this whole mess.

She opened the plane's door, leaned down to the water, and washed his blood off her hands in the ocean. Since he wasn't bleeding much anymore, she also rinsed out her bloody shirt in the seawater so she'd at least have something to put on if rescuers showed up.

It was a quiet, warm night and thankfully the ocean swells were mild. She could see the glow of the city in the distance but the city lights were below the horizon. Rescuers didn't seem like an immediate proposition. Nor did it seem likely Superman was going to wake any time soon and get an eyeful of her bra.

Lois sat down and contemplated her problems. The plane's radio wasn't working; the sniper had shot at the craft several times on takeoff and she thought something vital might have been hit. She could also smell gas now that the plane's door was open, so they'd run out because the fuel tank had been punctured -- and they hadn't had much gas to start with.

Superman was still out cold, no help there.

She didn't have her cel phone with her; that was back on her dresser in her house. Where, hopefully, Jason and Richard were just fine.

The plane had emergency water and food under the back seat, next to the tool kit. Enough for a few days, if Superman didn't wake up and save the day. Hopefully someone would spot them if that was the case. Hopefully that someone _wouldn't _be Lex Luthor or any of his goons. Thinking of Lex made her grab a hammer out of the toolbox. At least it was a weapon, even if it wasn't a very good one against a man with a gun.

Help didn't arrive before dawn; she stayed awake and watched the sun rise. Superman was breathing steadier, but didn't stir until the sun hit his eyes directly sometime around eight or nine AM.

"Lois," he said weakly, "Where are we?"

"You're awake! Thank god!" She yanked her stained, salt-water-stiff shirt on in the front seat of the plane, and then knelt at his side.

"Kryptonite bullets," he said, sounding only partially coherent. Her heart sank at the glazed look in his eyes. _I probably didn't need to bother putting this yucky shirt back on, _she thought, sourly. He wasn't really with it yet. "I think ... somebody ... shot me with kryptonite bullets."

"It's gone. You're going to get better," she said. "Right?"

"Unh." He closed his eyes. "Hurt."

That wasn't exactly a reassuring response. _C'mon, Superman. I need you to be the hero for me and save my butt again._ "Superman? Stay with me, here."

"Lois. Where are we?" His eyes didn't open, but he sounded a little stronger.

"Somewhere at sea. I had to put the plane down. They shot the gas tank. I ... I got the bullet bits out of your shoulder. You're going to be okay, right?"

"Call ... for help. Jason. Richard. Are they okay?" Superman asked. She saw his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"Radio's dead," she informed him. "You're going to have to fly us to safety."

"Cel... phone." He suggested. "Can't fly."

"I left it home. Didn't plan on being attacked tonight. Guess I need to coordinate my plans better with Lex!" Lois said, anger tingeing her voice.

"Mine. In my boot."

_Superman has a cel phone?_ She was momentarily surprised by that. But she supposed it made sense. _I'd give my right arm to know who he's given the number to. And I _want _it._

She'd already taken one of his boots off, the one on his injured leg. She tugged the boot off his good leg -- this elicited a groan from him, as the motion jostled his injuries -- and discovered he'd tucked both a cel phone and a wallet into the top of the boot, which was fairly loose fitting. He also had a key chain with two house keys on it, and a folding pocket knife in there. Well, she supposed his costume didn't have pockets ...

Eagerly, she snapped open the cel phone and discovered it was soaking wet and completely dead. Damnit!

"It's _wet_!" she complained.

He didn't answer; he was out cold again.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit, c'mon Superman, you have to get better!"

"Hurts," he mumbled. Possibly, that was worse than _out cold _-- Superman wasn't supposed to be delirious. He sure sounded that way, though.

She started to put his stuff back in his boot, then paused. _Wallet_. It was a brown leather wallet, hand tooled, with a picture of the American eagle embossed on the front and -- she was amused to discover -- a Boy Scout logo on the back. It looked old and worn, like something a boy might have made a long time ago as a Scout project. How had Superman gotten it? she wondered. _How long _has _he been on Earth? His English is absolutely perfect, no accent, but that doesn't mean anything -- he's an alien, God only knows how fast he learns and what sorts of technology they have._

Still, when she thought about it, it made sense that he'd been on Earth for awhile. Long enough for the wallet to have gained that patina of well-worn age, anyway.

There was no way on Earth she could resist the lure of snooping in it. She didn't even try. She snapped it open, and had a look. And for a moment, she was both disappointed and puzzled: the wallet belonged to Clark Kent, not Superman. It had Clark's driver's license, two credit cards, a membership card to a local grocery store, a Blockbuster Video card, and photographs of his parents and people she didn't recognize -- and one of her, standing on an overlook at Niagara Falls, which was weird, because she didn't remember ever visiting Niagara Falls with Clark ... no, wait, she did, she _had, _a faint memory tickled at the back of her mind. Something about a story, and a fireplace, and Clark falling ... hmph. Must have simply been a boring trip for her to have forgotten it that utterly.

_Clark must have dropped it, the absent-minded idiot that he is. I bet Superman spotted it and was going to return it to him. I swear, Clark's such a moron sometimes ... _The wet leather smelled strongly, and she almost put it away, when she saw the driver's license.

The license had Clark's picture on it but the license itself was dated several years prior -- from before she'd ever met him. It was expired, but she supposed he'd been out of the country and had no reason to renew it. In the picture, he wasn't wearing glasses and his hair was shorter and slicked back. He was wearing a blue plaid shirt. The resemblance to Superman was obvious and striking; there wasn't any way she could possibly miss it.

She eyed Clark's driver's license, and then Superman's pale face.

_Well, hell. Why didn't I see that before? _

A boat's horn startled her so badly she nearly fell over. She lunged to her feet on the pitching deck and saw, to her utter relief, there was a coast guard cutter approaching the plane. She was rescued!

Quickly, she stuffed Superman's -- Clark's -- wallet in her pocket, then yanked the door back open and waved frantically. "Help! Help!"

---------

Lois stood silently, eying the charred rubble that had been her home, two days later. The police captain -- not anyone she knew, just an anonymous officer -- told her the bald facts.

_Richard dead._

_Richard's friends, dead._

_Jason _gone. They'd found no body and assumed he'd been kidnapped.

_The house destroyed, burned to the ground. _Hiding tracks, most likely. Their attackers wanted to leave no evidence. Though she had little doubt that this was the work of Lex Luthor.

She hadn't seen Superman since the ambulance had whisked him away. She honestly wasn't sure how she'd passed the time over the last two days -- talking the police had been part of it, and she remembered getting very drunk in a hotel room because she didn't know what else to do. She'd gone through at least four packs of cigarettes before falling asleep. She'd woken up to a report on the news this morning that said that Superman was still unconscious.

"Lois," A voice said behind her. Jumpy, paranoid, she spun about, reaching for the gun she'd bought yesterday. Superman hadn't saved her this time: now she knew she had to save herself.

It was Jimmy. He flinched at her sudden move. "Lois, we've been looking all over for you. Perry said to see if you were here. He's really worried about you. Are-are you okay?"

Something wild and terrible was showing on her face; she could see the fear in Jimmy's eyes. "They killed my fiance and took my child, Jimmy. What do you think?" A wild laugh escaped her. She sounded nuts, which was perfectly okay, because she felt nuts too.

He said, tentatively, "Clark didn't show up for work yesterday either. We're afraid ..."

Lois hugged herself, feeling desperately alone. "I don't want to hear about any of this."

"Lois, are you going to be okay? Perry said to tell you to take a couple weeks off." Jimmy took a step towards her, looking very young and frankly terrified. "I'm sorry about Richard."

"Me too." Richard hadn't been a part of this until she'd gotten him involved.

"Perry said to tell you to come home -- to his place. He'll put you up."

"I've got a hotel room." The last place she wanted to be was with the father of her fiancé. She just wanted to be alone.

"Clark's fine, Jimmy." A familiar -- very familiar -- voice said, from her right. She whirled again, startled, to see Superman landing.

"Superman. Oh, thank god. You're okay!"

Her sense of relief was so strong she was startled by it. She burst into tears and ran into his arms. "Superman, you have to find Jason!"

"I know," he murmured. He ran his hand through her hair, and held her tight for a second. It felt so _good _to be held by him -- and then she felt guilty for the reaction, because Richard was _dead _and Jason was _missing ..._

She heard him say, over the top of her head, "Jimmy, I'll make sure she's okay. Tell Perry that Clark's fine, and that he'll be at work later. We're looking for Lex Luthor and he's helping me out with the research end."

"Sure, Superman. Thank God you're okay."

After Jimmy had left, she felt Superman sag a bit. She looked up, into his face, and saw in his expression that he was _far_ from okay. He was pale, and his eyes were feverish-bright. He was also holding his arm tight to his chest; the hug had been one-handed. She could feel waves of heat radiating from him.

"Do the doctors know you left the hospital?" she asked.

"I'll heal. They had to dig more bits of kryptonite out of me and I'm not sure they got it all by the way I'm feeling. The bullet shattered like glass when it hit my collarbone ... But -- we need to find Jason. I'll worry about the rest later." He hugged her again. "I'm so sorry about Richard, Lois."

"Yeah. Lex knows Jason is your child, I think. I think that's why he took him." Lois buried her face in Superman's good shoulder. "I don't know what he's planning to do. My baby, we have to get him back!"

"I promise you, I'll find him," Superman murmured.

She stepped back, suddenly, and fished in her pocket for his brown leather wallet. "This is yours."

He eyed the wallet for a moment without reaching for it. Then he bent over and tucked it back in his boot. His movements were painfully stiff and he used his left hand -- it was the right shoulder that had been shot. He was right-handed. With wariness, he asked, "Where'd you find that?"

"On the plane. You told me to get your cel phone out. It was with it." She shrugged, and hugged herself, and eyed him. The resemblance, she decided, wasn't entirely obvious unless you were looking for it. As Superman, he moved completely differently, in addition to wearing his hair different and the lack of glasses. But if you knew ... well, that was a scared Clark Kent looking at her, not the almighty Man of Steel.

_Scared for Jason, I think. Not afraid for himself. That's a whole different level of terror than just a fear of me blabbing his secret about._

"I was afraid that someone at the hospital had it."

_Yeah, it would be worse than usual if someone stole Superman's wallet, given the secret it contains._

"Did you ..." He trailed off, frowning at her.

"I looked. What, you think I wouldn't?" She snorted morbid amusement at the thought.

He was silent. Staring at her. Waiting for her to say something.

She finally did, a question that had been bothering her. "Did I know, before? Was that the secret you had to take from me?"

He nodded once. "Yes, Lois, you knew."

"Will you make me forget again?" She sounded terrified even to her own ears. She didn't _want _to lose this. She needed to know.

"No." His eyes searched her face. "The first time was a mistake, I never should have ... I'm going to go back to my apartment and do some research on the internet. Would you like to come with me?"

"Internet?" she said, stupidly.

He explained quietly, "I've been flying around the city for an hour and there's no sign of Lex or Jason. He's gone to ground somewhere. The best way to find him is going to be through good old fashioned research, I think. I'm going to hit the tax records and try to find out if there's any property he bought with his recent inheritance."

"I can help," Lois said. "Let me get my lap ..." _top_. Which had burned with the rest of the house, and her life. She swallowed hard, and said firmly, "Nevermind. Let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

---------------

He hurt, in a way he'd never hurt before. The pain was bone deep and aching when he held his breath; when he inhaled, liquid agony seared through his chest. His muscles kept cramping in his back, and when that happened it hurt so bad his vision would dim.

He hadn't meant to admit to Lois how much pain he was in, but after a few miles he'd had to land and they'd caught a taxi. He just couldn't carry her any farther -- he had to stop for fear he'd drop her, it was _that _painful and he was that weak.

He could feel her eyes now, staring at him from behind, silently. She scared him, or more precisely, he was scared _for _her. She was a mess -- hair a tangled snarl, unwashed, makeup running and unrepaired, and wearing clothes three days old that were still stained by seawater and his blood. Her eyes were wild, when he happened to meet her gaze. She had come home to find her life utterly gone.

Clark knew the feeling; there was near panic gnawing at his heart, though he reckoned he was better at handling terror than she was -- he'd been in far too many life or death situations before, and he knew the value of keeping a cool head and _thinking_.

But ... Jason was his child too. And he'd liked Richard; there was a pang of loss there, and a sense of failure for both Richard and towards the little boy he'd not really gotten a chance to know.

Well, even if he couldn't do a think for them now, at least he could do something for Lois -- he could, at least, take care of _her_. He said, "Lois, I've got some sweats in the dresser there. Why don't you take a shower while I work on this?"

"Don't leave without me if you find something," she said, sounding terrified that he would abandon her. Given his proclivity for leaving her behind, that was a reasonable fear, and he knew it. He winced.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, softly, reassuringly.

She bit her lip for a second and then rummaged through his dresser drawer, found the promised sweats, and disappeared into the bathroom of his rather small apartment. He stood up, collected her clothes, and super-sped out the door and down to stairs the laundry room in the basement, where he threw everything into a washing machine. He was painfully out of breath when he returned, and glad that no one had seen him.

Back to searching ... he'd already found a good deal of dirt on Lex in old newspaper articles. The inheritance wasn't a surprise; the man was a charming snake. Lois Lane's name on a crisply outraged article about the incident wasn't a shock either.

He didn't expect that Lex Luthor had bought property in his _own_ name, but he had an idea of what he was looking for. It would be large, it would have a deep basement, and it would be in an area where he could expect privacy. Given his plans for world domination via world annihilation, Clark expected that the property would be at an altitude significantly above sea level.

"Any luck?" Lois asked, padding back into the room five minutes later.

He glanced back at her, then winced. It hurt to turn his head; his back cramped painfully. Lois was wearing one of his athletic shirts -- it hung down past her thighs-- and nothing underneath, presumably. His x-ray vision wasn't working very well at the moment but his imagination was, despite the circumstances. She'd gone for the shirt over the sweats, perhaps sensibly, given their difference in size.

"Some," he said, telling his testosterone to take a vacation already -- this wasn't the time or the place. "I've been doing tax searches on county web sites for property purchased by any of Lex Luthor's known associates in places that are remote and above a few thousand feet of altitude. I've found a town home in Kitty's name in Gotham, but I think we can discount that because it would have been under water if Lex' plan had succeeded. Lex' lawyer is a known socialite, however ..."

"Amanda Ashington. Yes, I know."

"Any reason you can think of for Amanda Ashington to purchase a silver mine in the Rockies?" Clark asked, scooting his chair sideways so she could see the screens he'd pulled up. The motion made pain lance through his shoulder and he gritted his teeth until it faded; apparently oblivious to his agony, she simply studied the information he'd pulled up. One page was a tax record of a purchase in Amanda's name, and the second screen -- he toggled to it after she'd read the first -- was an article on the web site of a small-town paper in Colorado.

"Amanda's a city girl. It would be very out of character." Lois said, after a minute. "This says the silver mine's not worth all that much, but it made the news in the Hayseed, Colorado ..."

The town wasn't called Hayseed, but he was glad to hear some of Lois' snark back in her voice. She had hope again.

"... because the millionaire who bought it is being reclusive and mysterious and isn't hiring local labor to work on the home he's building there. The home is said to be large, with a heliport." Lois finished. "Superman, let's go. We've got to check it out."

"Lois, I can't fly there. Even by myself." It hurt him to admit that, but it was true. He was _badly_ hurt; he'd never been hurt like this before in his life. There was still kryptonite shrapnel in him. But he wasn't about to give up and not even try to save his son.

"We have to check it out!" She said, voice strident and eyes gone huge and panicky again.

Clark didn't want to get the local cops involved; that might be suicide for the cops. Heavens only knew what weapons Lex was harboring. "We'll have to fly. By airplane."

Half an hour later they'd established that they couldn't get tickets for any flight closer than Phoenix that day; the closest flight they could get was two days away. Lois observed in annoyance, "By the time we deal with flying and driving from Phoenix, we could have drove straight through."

"So we drive," he said, with determination. He tried to ignore the fact that this might not even be Luther's hideout. It was the best clue they had. "We'll get there."


End file.
